


For All the Innocent Things You Doubt

by lbk_princen



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst and Feels, Edward Elric Swears, Gen, Light Angst, Moral Dilemmas, Parental Roy Mustang, Post-Canon, Prison, Ten Years Later, ed and winry are married but she isnt mentioned by name, passive suicidality (roy wants to die but wont do it himself), roy isnt actually particularily parental ed is just his son, single scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:48:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29530101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lbk_princen/pseuds/lbk_princen
Summary: Mustang’s hard work was paying off -- he’d finally been arrested.Ed wasn’t happy when he found out.(r0yeds DNI)
Relationships: Edward Elric & Roy Mustang
Comments: 12
Kudos: 43





	For All the Innocent Things You Doubt

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from I’ll Be Good by Jaymes Young which is my go-to Mustang song. Thanks a million to nothingsodivine for being best beta as always <3 this started as something i wrote all at once in my notes app but i thought i'd polish it up and send it into the world, so, yeah!

Mustang sat in his cell, dressed in grey prison linens. Wooden shackles restrained his hands in his lap. Edward stepped up to the cell, closed his fists around the bars and gawked at Mustang like a child at the zoo, unsure what to say. Mustang looked back at him with a tired little smile.

"Hey Fullmetal," Mustang said. Ten years later, he was the only one who still used Ed's old title. 

A strange cocktail of resentment and fear coursed through Ed. "You stupid bastard," he answered. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Don't be like that," Mustang said, and he sounded almost disappointed. Ed's heart dropped in his chest. "You always knew this was the plan."

Ed shook his head. "I still owe you money, remember? How am I supposed to pay you back if you're--" 

He couldn't say it.

"Keep the money, Ed. It's not like I'll have much use for it."

Ed tightened his grip on the cold metal bars and swallowed hard against the bitter lump in his throat. Mustang's eyes were sympathetic. Ed couldn't stand it -- how dare that jerk sit there and pity  _ Ed _ when  _ he _ was the one in a jail cell awaiting trial? According to Ed’s sources, several other officers who'd played a major role in the civil war had already received their sentences. No one Ed knew personally, but Ed wasn’t a fan of the precedent set. Under Bradley's rule, Mustang's body count had earned him accolades; now it would earn him something else entirely.

The worst part was that Ed understood why it had come to this. Mustang had done terrible, unspeakable things. According to equivalent exchange -- according to justice -- there had to be consequences. But that didn't erase the fact that Ed didn't want to see him die.

"Where's Al?" Mustang asked.

"Still in Xing," Ed replied quietly. "I sent a letter, but it'll be at least two weeks before he gets here."

Mustang nodded to himself. "Have you spoken to Hawkeye?"

Ed shook his head. He'd come to Mustang first. Seeing him the way he was, Ed almost didn't want to visit Hawkeye anymore, didn't want to see her in the same sorry state. He couldn’t imagine her in chains.

"Why does it have to be an execution?" The question was cold and sour on Ed's tongue. He felt fourteen again, desperately faking confidence in front of Mustang, searching for any grain of approval while pretending he didn't care what the man thought of him. "Couldn't you just serve time instead? Why the hell did you never push to get rid of capital punishment if you knew this is where you were going to end up?"

"Because this is what needs to happen," Mustang answered with practiced calm. He had clearly already accepted his fate, and it made Ed want to shake him viciously by the shoulders.

"Fuck that!” Ed seethed. “Weren't you the one who picked me up when I couldn't walk and told me I needed to find a way to keep moving? That I could fix things?"

Mustang stood up from his bench and approached Ed, maintaining eye contact through the bars that separated them. 

"That was different," Mustang said reproachfully. "The only people you had wronged were yourself and your brother. This  _ is _ how I'm fixing it. Twenty-six years old and you're still spewing child logic -- typical."

Ed's whole face burned. "You're such an asshole. You've always been an asshole, but still there are some things I never could have done without you. You did more than just kill people. You helped me."

Mustang's expression pinched, aging him by a few years. "That doesn't excuse--"

"I know!" Ed exploded, banging his fist against the bars. "I know. I get it. I don't like it, but I get it. I just needed to tell you that you-- and Hawkeye, too, the two of you, and everyone else... You were the reason I was able to save Al. And I'm not just going to forget that."

Mustang went quiet, and Ed took a moment to calm his breathing, settle his thoughts.

"I'm sorry, Edward," Mustang eventually said with a rueful smile. "I didn't anticipate you would be so broken up about this. I thought you would've been happy to get rid of me."

"Asshole," Ed repeated in a mutter. "No one deserves to die. Not even you. You've got another thing coming if you think I'm just going to let this happen."

Mustang sighed and lifted his bound hands to rub at his eyebrow. “Having ideals is a wonderful thing,” he said, and his defeated tone made Ed’s skin itch. “My fate is up to the jury, and I’ve made my peace with that. As should you.”

“How many people did you kill in Ishval?” Ed asked. The words burned on their way out and he could see on Mustang’s face that they burned to hear. “Hundreds? Thousands? How the hell is your death supposed to make up for that?”

“Obviously it won’t,” Mustang snapped. “That’s not why--”

“How many people did you  _ help _ in Ishval?” Ed interrupted. “How many displaced Ishvalans moved back into their ancestral lands in the past five years thanks to new policies? How many Ishvalan prisoners have been released? How many families reunited? You’re telling me all those people would be better off if you were dead?”

“Edward,” Mustang said, and he sounded defensive, stubborn, patronizing, so Ed didn’t give him a chance to speak.

“Yeah, that’s right, I’ve kept up with what you're doing over here. And you want to relinquish your ability to do good because -- what, you can’t live with the guilt? Give me a fucking break!” Ed shoved off of the bars. The  _ clang _ echoed around the room _. _ “All those people you killed -- you don’t owe them your death. One death will never equal a thousand, moron; you owe them a  _ lifetime _ . A lifetime of making the world better instead of worse.”

Mustang's eyes darkened, and he gripped the bars where Ed had been holding them moments ago. "I’ve done what I could. But in a just world, men like me can’t be allowed to do whatever they please. The Flame Alchemist should never have existed in the first place; we’re well past that now, so this is how it  _ has _ to be. I know you want to save us, but we're not worth it. Forget me. Go back to your family."

Ed’s temper flared.

_ "You’re family too." _ The admission came too fast, but the words were desperate to be said. So what if he had a wife and kids? Ed’s family was bigger than that. Everyone who supported him when his life was nothing but alchemy and agony was family to him, and Mustang had been a pillar to that. Foundational. The years Ed had spent working for Mustang had shaped him; he couldn’t forget even if he wanted to.

They stared at each other until Mustang pulled away from the bars, gaze lowered. He paced towards the far side of the cell and stood there with his back to Ed.

“Colonel,” Ed called, even though it wasn’t his rank anymore. Mustang didn’t answer.

_ “Colonel,” _ Ed demanded. Still, Mustang ignored him.

Angry and hurt, Ed shuffled his feet on the prison floor. He’d never known Mustang to be speechless; he had a quip for nearly every occasion.

“This isn’t over,” Ed warned, perhaps too harshly. “I’m sure Hawkeye will see sense -- she’s always been the more reasonable of the two of you.”

That was enough to garner the turn of Mustang’s head. “You’re going to visit Major Hawkeye?”

“Yeah.” Ed lightly kicked the bars of the cell, just to feel the vibrations up his leg.

After a pause, Mustang said, “Will you tell her I’m okay? We haven’t been allowed to see each other.”

“I know better than to lie to Hawkeye,” Ed replied, voice dripping with irony. “You want to die. I’d hardly call that okay.”

Mustang shook his head and turned away again. “I’m not arguing with you any more, Fullmetal.”

Grief and anger and determination swelled up in Ed’s chest, and he raised his chin. “We can argue another time then,” he said firmly. “I’ll be back.”

Ed turned to go, and Mustang didn’t bother saying goodbye.


End file.
